Betrayal of the Heart
by MysticSpiritus
Summary: Love is not just an emotion, it's also a verb. Usually, it's safe to express Love, but rarely, it's best to just keep your mouth shut and your heart closed. Yuffie learns this the hard way. Tied for first in Viva la Reefie Christmas contest.


**Disclaimer: All characters belong to SquareEnix, except for two certain medical personnel. They belong to myself and RenzokukenZ.**

_Mystic: The Viva La Reefie forum is hosting another contest and I just have to defend my title you know. The focus of this contest is jealousy. Two thoughts came to mind and RZ was quite helpful in giving additional ideas. However, this was a fic that ended up writing itself, so I'm pretty sure what follows isn't what either of us had in mind. Not for me anyway. Darn those horrible nightmares. For clarification, this ties in directly to the Blame the Ninja chapter of Accidentally in Love._

* * *

It was an English ladye bright  
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,)  
And she would marry a Scottish knight,  
For Love will still be the lord of all.

"The English Ladye and the Knight"  
Loreena McKennitt

"What exactly did you eat again, sir?"

Vincent Valentine flinched slightly when the female nurse stuck a thermometer in his ear canal. The device beeped within seconds and registered a toasty one-hundred and two.

"My fiancé made a tuna salad for lunch earlier."

Nurse Harmony huffed and shook her head. "It looks like she tainted it. Doctor Luis will be in shortly."

The gunman simply grunted in response and lay back down on the examining bed. He placed an arm over his eyes to block out the light and made a quick note to enroll Yuffie in some cooking lessons. She was trying to be sweet and surprise him, true; but following directions was never the girl's forte. Be it a recipe or otherwise. Vincent's chivalry got the best of him as he just had to play the role of supportive gentleman in his betrothed's culinary skills.

A few minutes passed before Dr. Luis entered. Luis Von Zambino originally hailed from Costa del Sol, but chose to work in Edge where competent medical care was needed the most. A couple of years ago, while doing his rounds in the emergency room one night, he happened upon a young nurse intern who had transferred from Junon. It wasn't exactly love at first sight (more like bickerbickerbicker to ignore the sexual tension that eventually led to an exciting moment on the hospital administrator's desk), but for the sake of a long story, they'll both say that it was. Naturally, when he expressed desire to open a private practice and needed a registered nurse to assist him, Harmony Miller took the job.

Dr. Luis was so much fun to work under … er, work _with_.

Mr. Valentine?" he asked.

"Yes."

"That tainted tuna salad gave you quite the bout of food poisoning," Luis stated as he checked Vincent's pulse. "Was there any blood in your stools?"

Yet one more question to affirm Vincent's hatred of all things in white lab coats. "No," he eventually answered, eyebrows furled.

Luis nodded his head and dropped the patient's wrist. "Your urine showed no signs of dehydration, but the nausea and vomiting might stick around for another day."

"Sounds fun."

"I'll give you some Phenergan to stop the nausea and a prescription for some antibiotics to kill off the bacteria that got into your lunch. You're not severe enough to warrant a hospital stay, so just head home and take it easy."

"Vincent!" came a recognizable yell down the hallway. It was shrill, it was loud, it was very obviously Yuffie. "Vincent!" she yelled again, dashing into the doctor's office and into his arms. "Vincent, I am so sorry! I am the worst cook ever --"

"Yuffie …" his voice strained.

"I swear, no more cooking for me," she babbled on. "I'll stick to peanut butter and grilled cheese sandwiches. Not at the same time; that'd be just disgusting …"

"Yuffie!" With a painful groan, Vincent grabbed his stomach and bolted for the trash can. Impure tuna salad reappeared in it's nastiest form, so to speak.

"I'll give him something to stop that," Luis reassured a pale-stricken Yuffie.

Vincent looked up from the trash can with a look of pure hatred. "What makes you think I can hold it down?"

"Good news, it's a suppository."

Silence. Dead, beautiful silence. That is, until, "EWWWWWW! No wonder Vinnie can't stand you guys."

"Luis, Luis!"

The handsome doctor turned around to see a very concerned nurse standing in the doorway. "What is it, babe?"

"It's the commissioner."

Yuffie's head snapped up like a deer caught in the headlights. "Reeve?" she asked.

"Luis, you better hurry," Harmony pleaded. "He's pretty serious."

Her colleague and lover looked back toward Vincent who was currently seated on the floor. "Tylenol for the fever, Immodium for the diarrhea, and pick up your prescriptions at the front desk."

"Thank you," Vincent grunted, not in the mood to particularly care.

Turning on his heel, Luis met with his nurse out in the hallway. "How serious are we talking?"

"His fever is one-hundred and five, copious amount of blood in the stools, violent vomiting, and dear Shiva; this man has the worst urine specimen I have ever seen!"

"More food poisoning?"

"He said he ate some bad shrimp scampi."

"Eesh, did the ninja cook for him, too?"

"Yes," came a sheepish voice behind them. Yuffie stood at the doorway to the laboratory, biting her lower lip and digging her toe into the ground. Vincent was with her and judging by the look in his crimson eyes, this was news to him.

"When was this?" he asked, clearly insinuating other questions along with the more innocent one.

She didn't look up at him, too worried about her boss to do so. "Last night, while you were out of town on that investigation assignment.

His eyebrows raised briefly before settling into a deep scowl. His fiancée, the woman he pledged to marry, was over at another man's house -- late at night -- to cook him dinner. The fact that it was an obvious bad supper did little to silence the jealousy that started to stir. He wouldn't really have been so concerned if Elena hadn't been gone as well on an assassination mission.

Reeve and Elena had been dating (courting, as the commissioner called it) for half a year now. Did the blonde Turk know about this dinner date while she was away?

Vincent felt his stomach tighten; this time, not due to salmonella or E-coli.

"Reeve!"

That ball of unwanted suspicion rose higher into his throat when Yuffie ran ahead past the medical duo to where Reeve lay hunched over the trash can, clearly in worse shape than Vincent was. The commissioner did not shy away from her cool palm on his forehead. In actuality, he welcomed her guilt-filled touch.

"Harmony, call the hospital," Luis ordered. "Mr. Tuesti is going to need some IV fluids and some wicked strong antibiotics."

She nodded quickly and exited to the front desk.

"You should contact Elena." Vincent's voice cut through the mayhem like a hot bullet from Cerberus through a deranged mad scientist. Then the deranged mad scientist would die a slow, agonizing death as he pleaded for mercy from the great guardian, Ifrit.

Reeve heaved again before slowly shaking his head. "I sincerely doubt that Elena would like to see me right now."

"She deserves to know that her boyfriend is unwell."

"I'm no longer her boyfriend."

Yuffie stepped back and went wide-eyed, while Vincent's crimson eyes narrowed in a piercing glare. The whole situation didn't sit well with him at all. His stomach started to gnaw even more.

"What?" Yuffie asked. "You guys broke up?"

Luis rolled his dark eyes and guided the commissioner to his feet. "This isn't General Hospital folks," his tone sarcastic. "Sir, an ambulance is on its way to escort you to Edge Good Samaritan."

Reeve gave a slow nod of acceptance before addressing the gunman. "Vincent," he groaned, "please ban your lover from the kitchen."

Lover, hm? Vincent had begun to doubt if Yuffie was truly meant to be that anymore.

* * *

He lay in the hospital bed, oblivious to the team of beautiful nurses pricking his skin to not only to draw blood, but to also locate the right vein for the intravenous antibiotics. His body was exhausted and sore, while his mind begged for several hours of blessed sleep. A fir tree stood in the corner of his private room, and was decorated with spherical orbs that symbolized the various spirit guardians of Gaia. Cetran Scriptures often told of a male infant who was born from a virgin; the Theotokos they called her, Mother of God. Her immaculate son was named Emmanuel, the chosen Prince of the Planet. He preached of love and spiritual renewal, before suffering a brutal death by human hands who refused to listen to his instructions of true religion.

Those same scriptures later stated that Emmanuel did not stay in the realm of the Dead. The Lifestream was just a temporary visit.

Reeve's dark eyes glazed over at the colored lights of the tree, the neurons in his brain making the jump that ornaments resembled materia, and materia reminded him of one special young lady.

"Commissioner?"

The voice was female, melodic and sweet sounding, but not of the materia-obsessed girl he was secretly hoping to hear. "Back to basic formality, Elena?" Reeve asked, his usual playful tone hidden under a rug of repressed emotions that should have stayed as such.

The Turk calmly sat down in the guest chair beside his bed. "It's only appropriate, don't you think, sir?"

"I thought you didn't wish to see me again."

"Well, that was before I heard you were dying of food poisoning."

He didn't have the energy to laugh. "They say I'll be fine once the antibiotics kick in."

"I know, Reeve," Elena tried to smile, "but this is just more proof that I'm a better cook than that little ninja."

"Nothing happened between us, Elena."

"Pfft," she replied. "Nothing physical, maybe; but you really need quit lying to yourself."

He looked at her crossed arms and decided he really was not coherent enough to discuss this concept of lies. Lies, what lies? What lies was Elena talking about?

"Elena, I'm not quite sure --"

"Yes, you do, Reeve," she interrupted. "Something is going on between you and Yuffie. I'd say the L-word, but that'd depress me too much."

"How is love depressing?"

"Well, when your boyfriend is in love with someone else, that tips the scale in the downward direction."

He sighed. "I'm not in --"

"I told you to quit lying to yourself."

"Yuffie is engaged to Vincent," he was quick to point out.

Elena leaned forward to patted Reeve on the hand, a gentle and sympathetic smile on her face. "You didn't deny it then, Reeve."

Damn it, his ex was right and he still wasn't coherent enough to argue with it. Not that he could argue with her even if he wasn't doped up on whatever those nurses put in his IV bag. This was some pretty good stuff; too bad he couldn't enjoy it like he wanted to. Unlike those polka-dotted ponies dancing around his bed.

Whoa, time for night-night.

* * *

This was supposed to be a joyous time of year, the celebration of Emmanuel's miraculous birth and peaceful love that's meant to be shared throughout the world. Vincent felt none of that as he watched Yuffie collapse on the couch in his apartment and drop her head in her hands. His crimson gaze seemed to pierce into her skull in an attempt to search out evidence of guilt-laden affairs. Sure, she claimed that Reeve was no more than a friend and boss, but her concern for his health went far deeper than mere friendship.

Physical betrayal against Vincent and Elena was non-existent. Sex didn't happen. Reeve and Yuffie's evening together consisted of her poor attempt at cooking him dinner, followed by a cliché horror movie and innocent laughs. There was no "touching" save for one chaste hug. Emotional betrayal, though; well, that was an entirely different ballpark.

The ninja would often confide in the commissioner, even if the topic was something relatively light-hearted. Her gaze would soften significantly when she saw him; very much that special and rare look in one's eyes. Practically her entire being would brighten at Mr. Tuesti's presence.

Vincent went against his better judgment to question her further and decided to just go to bed. The hour was late and his heart felt like it was ready to jump out of his chest to leave a horse's head by a big sign that read ROMANCE. Really, that was how tired he was. The emotion of love and the concept of romance had died a brutal death only to be revived and bashed to the ground again.

Or frightened to a horrifying death by nightmares. Whichever one chose to look at it.

For the first time in several years, Vincent Valentine became the victim of nightmares. These were more than just average bad dreams of childhood; no, these were visionary nightmares. Vivid and blood-filled. His mind took him back to the hospital, where Yuffie lay on the operating table completely unconscious to the strange machine a certain madman was hooking in her veins. The vials were filled with an unknown liquid, but the gunman had an odd feeling that they were meant to harm her and not heal.

He wanted to say something, but his mouth refused to open. Her heart monitor beeped rhythmically as the insane one slipped away, his silver hair trailing behind him and across the walls. When the steady beeping began to slow, a clear sign that something was amiss, it was then that Vincent recognized the assortment of vials slowly being injected in her veins. They were poison; each solution developed to stop a certain part of the body.

Vincent knew it immediately.

"Yuffie, no!"

He rushed to shake her awake and unhook the poisons polluting her system, but it was too late. She flat-lined in seconds and the suicide machine had done it's job.

He didn't remember waking up in a start after her body melted into the gurney and down into the tiled floor. All that came to his memory, his dreams rather, was a nature documentary about dangerous snakes and their many methods of inflicting death. Why philosophical Nanaki was hosting the show was probably of little importance as each attack grew in ferocity and overall creepiness. Beyond Vincent's control was when Nanaki pulled him through the television screen and into the snake pit. His many years as a Turk couldn't help him when each bellied serpent began to use him as their test prey.

One thick anaconda wrapped it's length around the sharpshooter and proceeded to squeeze the life from him, each constriction capable of snapping bones and ligaments. One would think that an experience of such hatred would be enough to jolt someone awake, but Vincent's mind refused to cooperate. As he lay crumbled in a boneless heap, he felt the snakes jaws open wide and slide up his legs to devour him whole.

The anaconda decided to bring some friends.

A black mamba jabbed once into the man's jugular and sent the natural poison through his veins. He was already paralyzed (should be dead) because of his crushed bones, so the effect created a buzz to resonate in his forehead. Once rattles were heard in the distance, Vincent gave up all hope to try and wake up on his own. The three demons that did remain in his head decided that their host needed to hear whatever message they had to give.

Just as long as they weren't trying to mess with him for no reason whatsoever. Those three had a tendency to do that from time to time.

The following morning was not pleasant, to say the least. He was tired beyond all reason, while Yuffie was nowhere near her usual chipper self. "I got you breakfast," she deadpanned.

He was about to protest until he saw the fast food bag on the countertop. A glance inside revealed an egg, bacon, and cheese English muffin sandwich. It looked appetizing, but Vincent was in no mood to eat right now.

"The hospital called," she said from the couch. "Reeve can be discharged this afternoon."

Her voice carried little emotion.

"What's going on, Yuffie?" Vincent asked as he walked over to stand in front of her.

She sighed. "Nothing, Vincent."

"Don't lie to yourself."

"It's better if I do."

He was nothing if not confused. "What do you mean? Nothing good comes from a lie."

The ninja finally looked up at him through tear-stained eyes. Her young face contorted as if to think, but instead she broke down. And for Yuffie, breaking down doesn't mean quiet sobs like other girls. It means loud sniffles that drip of snot and tears and a total collapse of her state of mind. "You'll think I'm like _her_!"

It didn't take a genius to know which "her" Yuffie was yelling about. "Just tell me what happened between you and --"

"Nothing happened between me and Reeve!"

"Then why --"

"I don't know, Vincent!" she yelled back, all the while jumping to her feet in part-defense, part-tearful cries. "I don't know when this happened, or why for that matter! I didn't expect to get so mad at Reeve when he started seeing Elena or that talking to him over time would lead to this emotion that I didn't want to even admit! I shouldn't have admitted it Vincent! I'm just so stupid!"

Love was a strange emotion, one that didn't know when to just shut up and bury itself.

Yuffie collapsed back down on the couch and covered her face in her hands. She didn't even want to look at her longtime boyfriend and guy she was supposed to be tying the knot with. Leviathan, she was no better than that skanky scientist with the stupid brown ponytail that deserved to be yanked out of her hair follicles.

"Reeve knows, doesn't he?" Vincent's deep voice did little to stop her tears, but at least she nodded in response. "You're not like her, Yuffie."

"I'm worse!"

"No, you're not," he countered. "She lied to me. At least you were honest, eventually."

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"Suppressing your emotions isn't going to do any good." His breath heaved as his eyes looked toward the ceiling. "It causes nothing but mental trauma. Trust me."

She sniffled again and finally looked up at him. "We're supposed to get married soon."

The next words he spoke nearly broke his heart, but his mouth opened beyond his mind's control. "... Maybe we shouldn't."

Yuffie collapsed again when she saw his pained expression. She knew right then that she should've just kept her mouth shut.

* * *

Midgar winters were cold; not like freeze your ass off in Icicle Inn cold, more like sleet and rain cold that chills the little hairs on your skin when the frozen water hits them. Yeah, that kind of cold. And all of those little hairs were pleading -- no -- _begging_ Luis Von Zambino to pack up and fly back home to Costa del Sol. That wasn't a bad idea actually. Harmony had a fantastic body and the thought of her splashing around the shore in a tiny, little string bikini made all the miniscule hairs stand in attention.

All of a sudden, the doctor had an urge to run inside to _cool off_.

Either way, a much needed vacation was in order. Last Emmanuel Season, the medical duo went to visit her hometown in Junon. Luis swore to every spirit guardian in Gaia to never do that again. Harmony's father kept badgering him over his "intentions" while her mother nearly mauled him underneath the mistletoe thanks to one too many mugs of eggnog. Sure, the roast turkey and spiral-cut ham were good, but all the family drama just didn't make the mouthwatering food worth it.

Harmony was sitting on the couch in their shared home, oblivious to the world thanks to the book she was buried in, when Luis finally entered through the door. Only one thing could tear the RN away from the written word and that was her lover's head in her lap.

... The one on his shoulders ...

"I missed you," she cooed, running her fingers through his dark hair.

"Said the loser," he teased with a grin.

"What?!"

"Who did I say would pick up the commissioner when he was discharged?"

She sighed when she remembered the little bet between her and Luis. He was so sure that the Wutaiinese ninja would be there, sans engagement ring, to help Reeve Tuesti get his things so he could go home. Harmony disagreed and thought that no one would be there to assist him. Winner would receive an hour long body massage complete with scented oil. "Yuffie Kisaragi, I take it?" she asked with a definite smirk.

"Said the loser!"

"What about her engagement ring?"

"Gone!"

"Damn."

"Said the loser!"

Harmony growled playfully and stuffed a couch cushion over his face. "Said the doctor with a pillow over his head."

"Said the loser," he muffled back.

Bickerbickerbicker ...

**

* * *

**

Mystic: Anybody still breathing after all that angst? Yes, the last scene with Luis and Harmony was a George Lopez rip off. Do Reeve and Yuffie get together? Well, that's up to your interpretation, oh wonderful readers.


End file.
